Hi All,
M's sister is coming in a few minutes but I want to comment quickly and try and return later.I think this happens with most children. Where each of us is molded to reflect as best as can what is valued in her family and time and place. Childhood has a kind of brutality.
This is so.
Yes. Those are the hardest to bear, when one's mother decides to go to war with a daughter who may look almost exactly like her, with her voice, who loved her with all of her heart.
This is what turned something impossibly in me, when I saw this with such a clarity that I could not turn away.
My grieving for my mother is made sweeter because when I speak to others outside of my home, I guess this is a voice that I use when in a certain role, I hear my mother. When I lose my weight, I may cut my hair and then when I look in the mirror, I will see my mother, too.
Cedar, I had thought we had never met before. You know me so well, we must have--at some time and place so magical that I must store it away protected from all that might degrade it.
COPA
